Anatomy 101

The following few phrases have literally left my lips:


"Ladies, please stop spreading each other's butt cheeks."


"That's enough with kissing each other's butts."


"Jo, if your vagina were green we would have serious problems." (I'm fairly certain this comes from her confusing the color red and green)


"Don't put your hand in your butt at the dinner table, sweetie."


"Wait, where did you say you were going to put that?  No, do not put that in your butt.  We do not put things in our butts."


Obviously, anatomy is a large part of our day.

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my 33^rd birthday and I have a few thoughts.  Things have changed.  For starters I now find myself trimming nose hairs and my light-but-totally-there mustache.  I also regularly pluck a hair or two from my neck which have grown unruly.  Today, I discovered broken blood vessels alongside my left nostril which no amount of concealer can cover.  It makes me wonder if I should cut-out alcohol altogether so as to avoid looking like a complete wino by my 40^th birthday.  Pffftttt!  After having the girls it would seem that my chest (as in ribcage, perv) has permanently expanded as have other parts that take up a wider area than before.  Although, I will say that I will not be ashamed to put on a bikini this summer provided I keep-up a workout routine and maybe stop eating multiple bags of Cadbury mini-eggs, chocolate birthday cake, and drinking glass bottles of Pepsi.  Guess which one of those was an impulse buy (and in case you’re thinking it was the six bags of Cadbury mini-eggs you would be sadly mistaken).  Anyway, things are not looking good and I can’t wait to see what will happen in the next 7 years…*long pause*

There are other aspects that aren’t so bad, relatively speaking anyway.  While most people get their Bachelor’s degree by the age of 22 I am getting mine this summer at the age of 33.  Maybe not what my parents had in mind but if you ask me I kick-ass more for doing it now than doing it earlier.  I’ve also discovered an ability to run helped along by the fact that I frequently find myself pushing 60 extra pounds of weight around.  I would say those are my two biggest accomplishments for the moment.

So, here I sit.  This year my birthday falls on a Friday and in years past that alone would have been cause for celebration.  As it is, the only thing I can possibly fathom for a fun-filled Friday birthday is to do some homework and maybe get a movie from Redbox.  So, yeah, things have changed.

Bathroom Humor

Marcus complained to me the other day about the girls barging into the bathroom while he was using the toilet and how uncomfortable it is for him when they stand on either side of the toilet and watch.  I agree, that would make for an uncomfortable moment especially because they have a habit of just standing there and staring, not blinking.  Plus, being Marcus is a dude, accurate aim is everything in this case.  However, I feel little to no sympathy.  Uncomfortable?  Trust me, you don't know uncomfortable until you've used a tampon with two extra pairs of eyes watching.  Then try and explain what a tampon is to a 3 year old by answering hard hitting questions such as "Are you going to put that in your butt?"  I don't want to hear it.

Doctorate of Parenting

I am of the opinion that children should be seen and not heard, especially in public.  I probably would have done very well living during the Victorian era.  Because of my, let's call it what it is, ability to be a good member of society I cringe when my children make even the slightest of noises when we're out and about.  There is nothing harder than convincing a two year old she should whisper and as far as the baby goes, well there literally is nothing I can do.  But I try, damnit, I try.

Because of this philosophy on child rearing I found myself one fateful morning receiving my Doctorate of Parenting.  Up until this point I had rightfully earned my Bachelor's of Parenting by learning how to clean a stinky butt in 5 seconds flat or burp a baby and avoid being spit-up on.  As it turns out, all of that was putting me on the fast-track for my Doctorate.

Our road trip to Minnesota became, in effect, my Doctoral project.  Our first night on the road we found ourselves checking into a hotel after midnight.  The girls were a little wary about this new adventure but settled down within an hour only to awaken, ready for the day, 4 hours later.  Marcus, realizing he was about to have a murder-suicide situation on his hands, took both girls out of the room and down to the lobby to watch cartoons and be the first in line for breakfast (which was not a goal he had set for this trip).  A few hours later, Marcus and the girls came back up and I took over Josephine duties and attempted to pack us up while Marcus and Alex left to swim in the pool.

As luck would have it Jo was cutting a tooth at this very time and as such was miserable.  When Jo is miserable the only comfort she can find is in me, as in she had to be plastered to me at all times.  If I even made as if to put her down she would scream making it impossible to get anything done.  Had we been at home I would have let it go but we were in a hotel and it was only 7:00 in the morning.  My child was being horrid and I just knew someone was plotting our demise and this time it wasn't me.

At some point during this ordeal I had to use the bathroom, bad.  Since Jo wouldn't let me put her down I thought I would bring her into the bathroom with me.  The school of thought there being at least she could see me.  Needless to say, she sat on the bathroom floor screaming her head off which was only amplified by the excellent bathroom acoustics.  Eventually, I had to just pick her up and hold her in my lap as I went to the bathroom.  I'll leave it up to you to decide if it was #1 or #2 but the point is, Jo was finally a quiet and happy baby as she sat on my lap and I went to the bathroom.  Unfortunately, I had to put her back down and the screaming started back up again but there are some things that are just simply impossible to do while holding a baby.  Maybe if I figure out a way to finish taking care of business while holding a baby I will be elevated to the Nobel Peace Prize of Parenting.

This Is Probably TMI

I figured maybe it was time to post a little something about myself.  I tend to be a vain creature (Hi, Jeffrey!) and I like to make sure everybody doesn't forget me.  Me, me, me.  It was me, after all, who carried and gave birth to the two babies we constantly talk about.  I mean, isn't it time we give that a break?  They're all of 2 and 8 months respectively and don't have nearly the same level of awesomeness that I do.

But, in all seriousness, I would like to write a little something about myself.  Specifically, my body post two babies.  This is where most of you can stop reading if you'd like.

First I'd like to mention the fact that after giving birth I felt pretty darn good about my body (both times).  I mean, I'm no Victoria's Secret model bouncing back after a few weeks but I didn't have any stretch marks and my belly went down pretty well (though, as we'll find out later, not as well as I thought).  I held on to some extra weight from Alex that I couldn't shake before getting pregnant with Jo but I've since lost all of that weight and was feeling pretty good about myself.

That was, until a few weeks ago when the pastor of our church asked me if I was pregnant.  I was shocked.  I thought he was telling me a joke.  When the punchline never came, I loudly exclaimed "No!," punched him in the gut, then ran away.  Most of that last sentence is true.

It was at that exact moment that I decided to pick-up my running routine that I had been putting off for long enough.  I did and two weeks into it I'm already injured.  I guess working my way up to 4 miles in less than 2 weeks was kind of stupid.  There goes my beach bod but I don't really care.  I've seen the state of some of the women out there wearing bikini's and I'm going to go for it anyway.  Eh, on second thought maybe not.  I just looked for a bathing suit at Victoria's Secret and I think I'm going to fast for the next two months before going out in a bathing suit.

In the end though, my only real complaint is with my breasts.  They are out of control after breast feeding two babies.  I put on a sports bra and one nipple points one way, the other points another.  This is even after trying to line them up.  It's like they're made of those stress balls filled with sand but way less firm and more of a Jello filling so, actually, not much like a stress ball at all.  I can't even hang out around the house without a bra.  Scratch that.  I can and I do.  But I'm pretty sure I make people uncomfortable with how low my breasts hang, one nipple pointing to the left and the other pointing down.  Why they point that way I have no idea, but it's true.


So, there you have it.  My post two babies, body issues.  It could be worse.  For example, it could be worse if I still weighed 180 pounds (no joke, that's how much I weighed with Jo...it was more than Marcus) but without the added benefit of having a baby inside me, so there's that.  But it could be better.  For example, it could be better if I still had the cute runner's butt I used to have as opposed to the mom butt that's been quietly forming back there.